Branches of Destiny
by WitandAmbition
Summary: The war is over and everything should be peaceful… but it isn't. Something is wrong, terribly wrong, and at the root of it is James Potter. As everyone soon realizes, it is hard to choose between what is right and what is easy.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

Deep in the maternity ward of St. Mungo's Hospital, away from the public eye, Ginny Potter had just delivered a son. Her husband, Harry, now sat beside the bed where she rested, cradling the baby in his arms. As soon as he'd seen his son, he knew what name had to be used. The tuft of jet-black black hair atop the baby's head gave them only one option.

"Sirius," he said softly. "I know we agreed to James Derick, but what about James Sirius, instead?"

Ginny remained quiet for a long moment.

"I really wanted him named after my brother," she said at last.

"I know, but just look at him, Ginny. He looks like a James Sirius." Harry shifted the baby and added proudly, "I bet he'll be a Gryffindor, too."

Her lips pressed together and she continued to stare at him. Finally she pulled in and slowly released a deep breath before nodding. "Okay," she agreed. "If it really means that much to you."

Harry grinned and leaned over to kiss her. "I love you," he murmured. "Have I mentioned that lately?"

"Mm, I think you have," she said, and then her hand rose to tangle in his hair, holding him in place until the baby let out a soft sound from in between them. Reluctantly, Harry drew away to look down at his son, who had opened his eyes and was now fussing.

Harry's heart momentarily stopped beating.

James Sirius Potter, a boy destined for greatness, had been born with black hair and brown eyes on the longest night of the year.

 **BoD**

As the sunlight fell in slants through the window blinds, a checkered pattern was cast on the lone bed in the room. The light was just dim enough that James Potter, the boy in the bed, could roll over and ignore it. Tousled black hair just barely poked over the blankets. His eyes were tightly squeezed shut as he tried to recall his dream, but it was already fading into wisps which he could not grasp.

An explosion occurred elsewhere within the house, and James burrowed deeper into his blankets as his mother's yell echoed up the stairs.

"ALBUS POTTER!"

Ginny never used Al's middle name. Anytime Snape even came up, her lips pressed tight, and she would smile bitterly, nodding slowly each time Harry looked to her for support in defending Snape. When James was younger, he had studied his mother's expression intently. It was so obvious to him that her smile was forced, but it seemed Harry never realized it.

Over time, James learned that his father noticed changes in expression, but had a harder time in identifying the emotion behind it. Years of neglect and later manipulation gave Harry a very stunted understanding of human relationships. Unfortunately, neither he nor Ginny had ever sought therapy after the war, which could be seen in the way they avoided even looking at James.

After his mother's initial yell, there was blissful silence, and James hoped he'd be able to go back to sleep.

He forgot to factor in Lily's habit of bursting into his room unannounced.

"Jamie!" She leaped upon his bed and yanked the blanket away from his head. "Jamie, look what came in the mail!"

He glared at her with sleep-crusted eyes. "What?" he snapped in a gruff voice.

"Hogwarts! Your Hogwarts letter came!"

With another shout, she jumped off his bed and began jumping around his room in some kind of manic dance. Her dark red, unruly hair had escaped its braid and was swinging behind her, while her eyes positively glowed with excitement. If James hadn't known better, he would have thought she was going to Hogwarts instead of him.

"Al's super jealous," she informed him as he picked the envelope up from where she dropped it on the blanket. "He exploded the toaster!"

"Not like we need it anyway," said James, grabbing his glasses so he could read the contents of the letter.

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

He skipped down to the bottom of the letter and felt his lips curve up as he noted Uncle Neville's – _Professor Longbottom,_ he reminded himself – signature and personal note: _I win five sickles if you're sorted into Gryffindor._

"Well, of course you'll be in Gryffindor," said Lily matter-of-factly; she wasn't trying to hide the fact she'd been reading over his shoulder. "You're James Potter. You _have_ to be in Gryffindor."

He folded the letter again and looked in her eyes.

"Do you really think so, Lils?"

She faltered, her brows drawing closer. "Well, yeah. You're James Potter."

 _The Supplanter, the Scorcher..._

He shook away the fragmented dream. No use in dwelling on it right now. It had occurred several times since his eleventh birthday, and he knew it would haunt the edges of his mind again.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," said James. "I'm hoping for Hufflepuff, personally. Then I'll be with Teddy."

Lily's eyes glowed once more. "Oh, that would be lovely!"

He forced a smile and ruffled her hair. "Go on, I'll be down soon."

In another burst of movement, she scampered out of his room, and James winced as she slammed the door behind her. He envied her energy in the morning. These days, he had difficulty even hauling himself out of bed. Andromeda had said the lack of energy was to be expected, but he still hated it. Hopefully, she and her sister would soon find a solution.

When he reached the kitchen, it was to find his mother at the stove, her fiery red hair pulled back in a ponytail as she prepared breakfast. In the corner, away from everyone else, sat his younger brother, Al, whose arms were crossed and chin lowered to his chest, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. Lily was squirming in her chair, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke to their father. Harry looked away from her for the briefest moment and gave James a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Good morning, James."

"Morning, Dad." He placed a card on the table between them. "Happy birthday."

 _Please don't hate me anymore,_ was the silent message. _I didn't ask to be born._

As Harry picked up the home-made card, Al looked up, his green eyes wide.

"I forgot Daddy's birthday!" cried Al.

James barely contained himself from rolling his eyes. At ten years old, Al was _still_ calling their father 'Daddy'. James had dropped the habit when he was eight.

Ginny glanced over her shoulder. "It's okay, Al, we didn't expect you to do anything." She shot James a quick smile. "That was very nice of you, James."

"Yes, thank you, James," Harry said, and then looked at Al in the corner. "How about this, Al: While we're in Diagon Alley, we'll all get ice-cream, and that will be my birthday present. Sound like a deal?"

Al bit his lip and glanced at James, who nodded.

"Okay!" Al said happily while Lily cheered.

 **BoD**

An hour later, they stepped into Diagon Alley where, to James' utter lack of surprise, they were immediately accosted by fans. As if there was a charm to signal them, the reporters arrived only moments later.

"Albus! Albus, stand next to your father!" one reporter yelled, and then there was a quick flash of light from a camera.

"Oh, won't you look at those eyes?" a woman sighed.

"Harry, how could you demean your peers' experiences by naming your son after Snape?" someone shouted from the crowd.

As Al posed beside Harry, who wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist, James stood behind them and carefully kept Lily out of view. Thus far, the public wasn't interested in his younger sister, and James would like to keep it that way. Based on the way the reporters usually painted him as a bully, he didn't want to see what slander they'd have for Lily.

Finally, after many more photos and questions, Ginny called for the crowd to back off.

"We're here for our older son, you see," she explained, placing a hand on James' shoulder.

He had gotten used to having a smile around cameras, and it came naturally just before another light dazzled his eyes with spots. Remembering his first experience flying always made him feel more confident, which made it easier to smile even in a delicate social situation. It helped him feel like he was in control.

"Oh!" squealed the same woman from before. "Why, he's the spitting image of his father!"

"Except for his eyes," her friend observed. "I wonder where those blue eyes come from?"

Ginny's fingers dug into James' shoulder.

"My father," she said a bit curtly.

Lily was now fidgeting, unable to remain still. James felt a similar desire to leave and shifted his weight on his feet. His gaze drifted to his father, who caught on that all three of his children were restless and uneasy.

"If you want an interview, you can arrange it with my PR representative," Harry told the crowd. "Now, if you'll let my family pass…"

Ginny pasted on another smile as the crowd, however reluctantly, obeyed Harry. James could understand her frustration. They hadn't even moved when she tried to push them away earlier. Over ten years removed from her short Quidditch career, she no longer had much sway over the public.

"Let's get your robes first," Ginny suggested.

"Okay," James agreed. He didn't really care about the order of things, so long as he got his wand.

"In that case, I'll take Al to the Quidditch shop," said Harry. "Lily, do you want to come with us?"

"No, I'll stay with Jamie," she replied.

While James was being fitted for his robes, Ginny wandered around the shop and occasionally held up an article for Lily's judgement. Most of it was flat-out rejected. Even at the age of eight, Lily was shaping up to be a fashionista, but that was to be expected of Victoire's most fanatic protégé.

For the first time in his life, James wished he could be shopping with them. He'd never realized how difficult it was to stand still for half an hour while being poked and prodded by needles.

As they left Madam Malkin's, Harry and Al were exiting the Quidditch store at the same time.

"What did you buy him this time?" Ginny sighed.

"Just some gloves," Harry said innocently.

Al extended his arms and wiggled his fingers. "Look, Mummy, they're just like yours!"

"They sure are, sweetie," she said, running her hand through Al's light auburn hair while shooting Harry a look. Harry only smiled sheepishly in response.

"Wand, wand, I want a wand!" Lily shouted.

"Maybe don't say that so loudly, Princess," Harry said a bit nervously, glancing around them.

She blinked hazel eyes up at him. "Why not?"

"You'll understand when you're older,"

"But Daddy, when will that be?" Lily whined.

Harry looked at Ginny helplessly and she raised her brows back at him. James and Al were also watching their parents with confusion.

"Er, we should go to the next shop," Harry said quickly. "Yes, that. Books. Yes."

With only that is an explanation, Harry led the way to Flourish and Blotts. Except for the time he was trying to figure out _why_ his parents were so famous, James hardly ever read for fun, and so he stayed by his mother's side while Lily darted toward the small art supply section. He scowled at a row of seven books in the front window. It was one of the few series he'd completed, but he hadn't much liked the last two books. They felt rushed and forced to him.

He was relieved not to see an eighth book among the set. That script was hardly worth mentioning. In fact, Al had particularly enjoyed burning it.

James glanced at the clerk's name tag. Susan Macmillan was a sensible woman, he decided.

"Oh, yes, my daughter's starting this year, too," she was saying to Ginny. "She keeps complaining about a stomachache."

Mrs. Macmillan caught James' eye.

"And what about you, young man? Are you nervous about the upcoming school year?"

He shook his head and stated confidently, "I'll be a Gryffindor."

"Of course you are," she said fondly. "Well, good luck. Oh and Ginny, tell Hermione congratulations, won't you?"

"Sure. Bye, Susan!"

Once collecting Harry from the Quidditch section, telling Al he had too many books about dragons, and promising Lily more supplies at a later point, Ginny ushered the family out of the shop.

"Next the Apothercary," she announced, "and then we can get James his… wooden… stick… Oh bloody hell, let's just stick with calling it a wand."

"Or a baguette," said James, ignoring his parents' eye rolls. His cousin Louis insisted that was how the French referred to wands, and James stuck his nose in the air, knowing he was right.

Then he gagged as he got a whiff of bad eggs mixed with rotted cabbages.

If it weren't for the dank smell which saturated the entire shop, James might have found the Apothecary more fascinating. As it was, James was holding his nose pinched closed as he dragged Al away from a sign which listed what ingredients shouldn't be mixed together.

 _Honestly, this kid is explosive enough on his own…_

Finally, at last, they left the Apothecary for Ollivander's Wand Shop. James suddenly lost the appetite which had been building all day as they drew closer to the shop and entered, a small ball on the door announcing their arrival. The elderly man behind the counter indicated for the Potter family to wait while he finished with another girl.

"That'll be ten galleons, Mr. Nott," the man said to the girl's father, who stiffened.

" _Ten?_ But that's ridiculous –"

"Dad, it's fine," the girl said softly.

"It's _not_ fine, Ivy. Your mother wouldn't stand for such a rip-off."

"Yeah, she would," the girl replied. "Mum knows when to pick her battles."

Mr. Nott's face was still pinched with annoyance. Finally, his jaw clenched, he withdrew a moneybag from his robes and threw the coins onto the counter.

"Contrary to what you might think, Mr. Ollivander," he said tightly, "I am _not_ made of money. And I don't appreciate being made a fool in front of my daughter."

The elderly man's lips pressed into a white slash. With one last sneer at him, Mr. Nott put a hand on his daughter's shoulder and guided her toward the exit. He paused a moment when he noticed the Potter family off to the side watching them, nodded curtly toward Harry, and then continued on his way. There was a gleam in the girl's green eyes when she looked over her shoulder at James, but before he could analyze it, the door closed and his view of her was cut off.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Potter," said Mr. Ollivander in a heavy tone.

James didn't know to which of them the man was speaking, so he was glad when Harry answered.

"Oh, no, we completely understand."

"Nothing but bad news, that lot," Ginny agreed.

James glanced out the window. He got the feeling his mother was right, but not in the way she imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

The next three weeks seemed to pass at a slow pace. When his parents weren't looking, James tried out a few spells from his textbooks, until he was caught and Harry took away his wand for the remainder of the summer. Angrily, James had slammed his bedroom door closed, threw himself on his bed, and grabbed the Charms textbook.

One of the beginner spells was to create light. He moved his finger in a loop, said, "Lumos," and stared expectantly at his finger. No light appeared at the tip of it.

With a snarl of frustration, James threw the textbook on the floor, feeling very much like he would like to have a full-blown tantrum.

"Wandless magic only works when it's extremely needed," his godmother explained when he asked her. "Otherwise you have to practice quite a bit in order to master it. Why do you ask?"

They were outside in the yard of the Burrow, where James' grandmother had insisted on holding a reunion before all of the children returned to school. James cast a glare toward his father, who seemed to be getting yet another dressing-down from Uncle Percy. Ginny was nowhere in sight.

"Dad took away my wand," James muttered. "Why's Uncle Percy mad now?"

Aunt Hermione turned to follow his gaze. "Your father's behind on paperwork again," she said. "It seems that if I'm not there to hold his hand –"

"Hermione," Ginny said sharply from behind them.

"Oh, come off it, Ginny," said Uncle Ron as he joined them. "We all know Harry was only promoted because the Auror Department was useless with him as Head." He turned to James and added, "Your father was a fine Auror, Jamie –"

"No, he wasn't," said James. "You caught Lestrange. You should've been made the Head, not Dad."

He heard, rather than saw, his mother inhale sharply. Ron had jerked back, his eyes wide and spots of color in his cheeks. Hermione stepped closer to her husband, grasping his shoulder tightly until he got his breathing back under control.

"James, it's best if you don't bring up that case," Hermione said quietly.

He lowered his head and nodded toward the ground, guilt twisting at his stomach. He didn't know much about the case; only that after catching Lestrange, Ron had promptly quit the Aurors and accepted George's offer to work at the joke shop.

"But that does remind me," Hermione continued. "There's a girl starting at Hogwarts this year. You don't have to be friends with her, but should she ever need help, I'd like for you to provide it."

When he raised his head, she was looking at him with soft brown eyes.

"Can you do that for me, James?"

"Er, yeah," he said. "What's her name?"

Surprisingly, it was Ron who answered. "Phoenix. I doubt there'll be any problems, she seems the type to handle them all herself, but she might need some… assurance sometimes."

"Is this one of the Muggleborn students?" asked Ginny curiously. "I thought there was a program for them now."

"There is," Aunt Hermione said, nodding, "but Phoenix is a half-blood. She already knows about the magical world."

James was still confused, but he smiled at his aunt and assured her, "Don't worry, I can help."

Moreover, he was curious why this girl was a special case, and why even Uncle Ron was invested in her. Like his father, James was drawn to any mystery, and Aunt Hermione had just personally handed him one. He would be remiss not to use this situation to his advantage.

* * *

Finally, the first of September arrived and the Potter family set out for King's Cross Station. Since Grimmauld Place was only about twenty minutes away, Harry wanted them to walk there, to James' chagrin. Despite the cool air that morning, he showed up at the station with a light sheen of sweat. Even he didn't know if it was from the walk or if it was due to nerves.

By the empty feeling in his stomach, he thought it might be the nerves. Not to mention, none of his family looked similarly affected from the walk.

When they reached the barrier, James stared at it dubiously. It looked very solid to him.

"How're you supposed to get through it?" asked Al, his brows furrowed.

"You run at it, like this," said a very familiar voice.

James caught only the flash of a smile and blue hair before Teddy ran past them and straight into the wall, disappearing in only moments. He blinked, wondering if that really just happened.

"I'm _pretty_ sure that was my godson," Harry said, also blinking.

Grinning, James positioned his trolley and waited for a crowd of Muggles to disperse.

"James, wait, one of us should go with you," Ginny protested as he got ready to run.

"No need, Mum!" he called over his shoulder. He'd always done things on his own.

Then he glided through the brick wall and appeared on another platform entirely different from the other side of the barrier. Here, people were dressed in strange and outlandish clothing, whether they were trying to pass as a Muggle or they were wearing robes. Thick steam coated the platform, but he could still make out the gold letters on the scarlet train: _The Hogwarts Express._

Excitement bubbled up inside James. He knew what was awaiting him at the end of this journey: a dorm full of the same colors as the train, red and gold, and hopefully acceptance, too. _Gryffindor, here I come,_ he thought.

His family emerged from the barrier, Al's eyes squeezed shut as he held tightly to Harry's hand. James poked at his younger brother.

"Hey, Al, take a look at this!"

Al opened his eyes and gasped. "The Hogwarts Express!" he exclaimed.

Immediately, afterward, however, his expression fell and his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He kicked at the ground, glaring at the ground.

"Mummy, Mummy please, can't I go too?" Lily begged.

"You have to wait three more years, sweetie," said Ginny. "Then you can go."

Al glanced up at Harry, his own eyes wide and pleading. "What about me? It's only a year."

"Exactly," Harry said wryly. "It's _only_ a year."

James stepped back from the trolley, giving his father room to pick up the trunk. As Harry carried it to the train, Ginny pulled James into a hug and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Be good. Win Neville that bet, you know he doesn't make much as a professor. Oh, and don't play too many pranks –"

"Mum, when have I _ever_ played a prank?" James said, rolling his eyes.

She bit her lip. "And don't get into too much trouble," she finished quietly. "Enjoy your time at Hogwarts, Jamie."

He grinned at her. "Of course I will, Mum. I don't have an insane maniac after me, do I?"

"No," she said, sweeping his black hair from his face, "but you _are_ the oldest son of Harry Potter. A lot of expectation is riding on you, Jamie, more so than it is on Al and Lily. You'll have to prove you belong in Gryffindor just as much as anyone else."

After a moment, James nodded. He knew that already. More than likely, the newspapers had already been printed: _James Potter sorted into Gryffindor!_ It had been determined from the moment he was born.

Harry returned and gave James similar advice, concluding, "I know you don't have any friends –"

"Gee, thanks, Dad," James said bitterly. Unlike Al and Lily, he didn't have a cousin the same age as him, so he was usually left on his own when Ron and Hermione brought their children to visit.

Harry winced, his expression pained. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

He pushed a hand through his own black hair and then bent down to James' level. His hands fluttered, like he wasn't sure what to do with them, and then he pulled James into a hug. James tried not to stiffen in the short embrace.

James cleared his throat and stepped away. "Well, I'm off. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Don't forget to write," said Harry. "Of course you'll be in Gryffindor, but I'd still like something to frame."

"Yeah, 'course I will," James responded automatically.

Then he turned to say goodbye to his siblings. Tears were pouring down Lily's face and he held her slightly away so she wouldn't get snot on him. Al clasped him tightly, his head burrowed into James' chest and hiding his splotchy face. James gently pushed him back and punched Al in the shoulder.

"See you later, squirt," he said, grinning widely.

"Another year, and then I'll be at Hogwarts, too," Al said fiercely.

James laughed. "They won't know what to do with _two_ Potters in Gryffindor!"

After one last hug and piece of advice from his mother, James leaped aboard the train just as the warning whistle went off. He leaned out the door, waved to his family, and then went to find his future. This journey could determine the next seven years of his life.

* * *

Harry stood at the end of the platform, watching the train fade into the distance. Ginny was beside him, her hand still raised in farewell.

"We messed up, didn't we?" he murmured.

Slowly, Ginny lowered her hand. She didn't look at him as she asked, "You don't think he'll be in Slytherin, do you?"

He wished he could scoff at the question, but instead, all he could say was, "I don't know."

His chest tightened as he remembered another boy, very similar to James, with the same streak of independence and charming smile. Sometimes it was very hard to differentiate them, even now that James' eyes were blue instead of brown.

Turning around, he spotted his younger children with Bill, Fleur, and Louis. Bill's expression was hard as he stared at Harry, and Harry looked away, his shoulders slumping. He knew he deserved the disappointment.

* * *

 **AN:** I decided to cut it off here because the next chapter introduces a lot of OCs.I also wanted to establish the Weasley kids' ages as of 2015:

Bill x Fleur: Victoire (15); Dominique (12); Louis (9)

Percy x Audrey: Mary "Molly" (13), Lucy (13)

George x Angelina: Frederick (9); Roxanne (7)

Harry x Ginny: James (11); Albus (10); Lily (8)

Ron x Hermione: Rose (10); Hugo (8)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

James didn't bother looking for Teddy, who would be in a meeting with Victoire and the other Prefects. Instead he made his way down the corridor, peeking inside each compartment to see which contained his trunk. He really should have gone with his father when Harry loaded it onto the train. Now he was left looking like an idiot on the first day.

Finally he reached a compartment which held two students about his own age. Above them on the rack was his trunk, easily identifiable because Lily put Gryffindor stickers all over it. In the rush of everything earlier that morning, no one had taken them off.

James opened the door and the two occupants looked up with identical expressions of wariness. He somehow sensed that they were related, even though they looked nothing alike. The boy had midnight-black hair and strange dark blue eyes with a ring of gold. The brunette girl seemed familiar, and it took James a moment to recognize her from Diagon Alley. He felt his cheeks tinge pink when she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Your trunk, I presume?" she said, pointing to it.

"Er, yeah," he mumbled, and then, trying to make the best of the situation, asked, "Mind if I join you?"

She exchanged a glance with the boy, who shrugged and gestured for James to sit down. As James did so, the boy stuck his hand out and said, with a trace of an accent James couldn't identify, "I'm Sirius Black, and that's my cousin, Ivy Nott."

"Second-cousin," Ivy corrected, but James wasn't paying attention to her. He was too busy gaping at the other boy.

"Is that a joke?" James demanded furiously. He was angered on behalf of his father, even if Harry cared more about remembering Dumbledore and Snape than people who truly loved him.

"No," the boy said, his brows furrowing. "It's a family name, and I'd thank you not to mock it."

" _Mock_ it? I'm not the one –"

He cut off, regaining his composure as the compartment door slid open. It wouldn't do for anyone to see him lose his temper. The news would immediately grace the front cover of every paper, and unlike Al, James didn't enjoy calling attention to himself. He turned, a smile plastered upon his face.

The boy who stood in the doorway blinked at them. "Um, hello," he said. "I'll just…"

"Oh, you're welcome to join us," drawled the boy claiming to be Sirius. "Why not add a Weasley to the mix?"

James shot him an irritated glance. "He's not a Weasley," he snapped. "I think I'd recognize my own cousin."

"Um," the other boy said, and then shifted his gaze away as James looked at him. "I kind of am. A Weasley, I mean. We're second-cousins."

Narrowing his eyes, James studied the boy closer. Not every person with red hair was a Weasley, but he also had the same bright blue eyes as James. Mind racing at this unavoidable truth, James was startled when the boy spoke, a note of nervousness ringing in his voice.

"Our grandfathers are brothers, but they're kind of estranged. My grandad, he didn't like the way your grandfather's family was promoting prejudice."

Once again, James felt his annoyance flare.

"We're not prejudiced," he ground out.

The boy glanced at Ivy and her cousin, frowning, but they stayed silent behind James. He could feel them avidly watching him, though, and it made him stiffen his spine.

"What would happen if you were in Slytherin?" the boy asked quietly.

Before James could snap a response, the boy deliberately raised an eyebrow, and James stopped, an irrational worry bleeding into his mind. There was no way his family would disown him for being in Slytherin.

 _They wouldn't if it were Al,_ a traitorous voice whispered to him, _but what if it were you?_

He suppressed his sudden anxiety and forced a smile.

"It would be okay," he said with a small shrug. "But I'll be in Gryffindor, so it doesn't matter, does it?"

Behind him, he heard a soft scoff, but when he twisted around, Ivy only silently met his gaze, her face carefully blank.

"Well, what about you?" James asked, turning to face the boy again. "What House do you want to be in?"

The other boy had finally moved out of the doorway and sat across from James, on the same bench as Ivy. A thoughtful frown developed over his face.

"Probably Ravenclaw," he responded. "But my mum was in Hufflepuff and my dad was in Gryffindor, so either of those are a possibility."

"Don't discount Slytherin," Sirius threw in.

In the privacy of his mind, James had begun calling him by the name, but he still didn't believe it. His father had been adamant that there was no one left in the Black family, save for Andromeda and Narcissa.

"That, too," the boy said in an agreeable manner, though he clearly didn't think it was a real possibility for him. "I'm Chris, by the way. Chris Weasley."

"Are you part of the main branch?" asked Ivy.

He nodded his head. "My grandfather was older."

She exchanged an unreadable glance with Sirius, although neither of them said anything. James was baffled by the whole interaction, but he didn't want to seem like an idiot by asking about it. Besides, he doubted any of them would tell him.

 _Doubt it'll be Ravenclaw, then,_ he thought glumly. That left Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as his only options. Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad; he'd be in the same House as Teddy and Dominique, at least.

For the rest of the time, they sat in silence, James in his own thoughts, Sirius and Ivy contemplated the passing landscape, and Chris read a book, _Inside Hogwarts._ Underneath the title were the words: _A Personal Account._ The author's name was listed as Susan Macmillan, and James wondered why he hadn't seen the book in the window at Flourish and Blotts. He concluded that she was too humble to display her own works.

When a plump, friendly witch came by the compartment with a food trolley, Ivy was the only one to stand up and buy some snacks.

"That entire scene in the play was rubbish, you know," she said as she sat down again.

Chris didn't even look up from his book, so James was left alone to look at her in bafflement.

"My mum said the trolley lady didn't do anything when the Death Eaters boarded the train," she continued, knocking Sirius' hand away when he tried to snatch a Chocolate Frog. She did give him the card, though, and he tucked it into his pocket with a sigh. "If she really is some kind of guardian, she didn't do her job."

"Well, it was a bad situation and maybe she _couldn't_ do anything," James said, trying to be fair even though he had stopped reading at that scene. Al had forced himself to read the entire script, hoping for a redemption of his character, and then cried at the end when it didn't happen.

"Is that your dad's excuse, too?" asked Chris.

The question was so out of the blue that James wasn't the only one to look at him in confusion.

He lifted the book he was reading.

"It goes in depth about Snape in here," he explained, "and _holy fucking shit_ , was he a bad person. He let _first-years_ get tortured. And that's not even going into what happened to the older girls."

"What do you mean?" asked Ivy, frowning.

Chris' face clouded. "Trust me, you don't want to know," he said darkly.

A shiver ran like a ghostly touch over James' skin. He recalled a conversation he'd overheard between his mother and Aunt Hermione. _Snape thought of women like possessions,_ Ginny had said, her tone laden with disgust.

Bile rose in James' throat. His mother had taught him women were their own person and didn't belong to anyone else. It sounded like Snape didn't receive the same lesson if he let the older girls be used like objects. In Snape's mind, rape was probably better than death.

 _I'm never letting Lily near him,_ James decided in a surge of protectiveness. _Or Al, he'd be devastated._

There was a knock at the door just before it opened to let an older student inside. James watched as Chris' eyes glossed over, his skin flushing a pink hue. Curiously, though, Sirius was not similarly affected by Victoire. Instead, both he and Ivy were looking at her with a reserved wariness. Despite Victoire's pale blonde hair, her freckled complexion clearly marked her as a Weasley.

"Your portion," she said primly, handing James a small box which he knew contained fudge.

Their grandmother made a few squares for each of them to eat on the ride to Hogwarts. According to the adults in the family, it was much better than the sandwiches they had received.

"Thanks, Vic," said James. "Anything else?"

"No, just the chocolate." She paused and studied the other occupants of the compartment. "Are these your friends?"

He felt his face grow warm. "Er –"

"Ivy Nott," a smooth voice cut him off, "and this is my cousin Sirius, Heir of House Black."

Sirius inclined his head. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Weasley."

In a strangled voice, Chris said, "Chris Weasley. Not the heir."

Victoire's brows rose. "No, though by right, it should be you, I suspect."

Chris twitched his shoulders in a semblance of a shrug.

For the second time, James seemed to be the only one left confused by the exchange. He looked around at them all, frowning. "What's going on?"

"Great-Uncle Alexius was forced to give up his seat among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I'm entirely sure of the specifics…" Victoire shot a glance toward Chris, who looked away, "but it was a messy process and my dad took the seat after the war. Louis is in training as the heir."

"Heir?" James repeated in a rather weary tone of voice. "Sacred Twenty-Eight?"

"An Order formed in the Middle Ages," said Ivy, "although the term 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' came into use during the last century."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because of _your_ ancestor."

She grimaced in response, as if it was a sore point of which she wasn't particularly fond.

To James, he added, "There's nothing really special about us. We're just an elitist group that's been around for a while."

The words were right, delivered in a careless tone even, but instinctively, James knew there was more to it than that. He weighed pressing for more information, but ultimately decided against it. From their expressions, he doubted any of them, even Victoire, would give him a real answer.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," his cousin brusquely, and then departed as abruptly as she entered.

Silence descended over the compartment again. With nothing else to do, James opened the box of fudge and began eating it. He offered some to the others, but only Chris took a piece, his face settling into one of sweet adulation as he chewed. _One way to get over the allure,_ James noted with amusement.

He hadn't expected Victoire's Veela characteristics to have such a big effect on Chris. Since they shared blood, Chris should be more immune to it. _Maybe he's naturally attracted to blondes?_ James wondered. Victoire was certainly beautiful even without the allure.

As the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, James stumbled into the press of people in the corridor. He expected Sirius and Ivy to leave him, but then she said, very irritably, "Come on, James," latched her fingers on his arm, and dragged him forward with them.

Twisting his head, James saw Chris getting left behind in the throng of people, and flung his arm out, desperately reaching for him. Chris lunged forward, their fingers slipping for a moment before he got a more firm hold. They made for an awkward line as Sirius, at the lead of the group, forced his way through the other students.

Finally they emerged from the crowd, and James gulped in the fresher air.

"We did it!" Sirius cheered.

Ivy rolled her eyes, but her lips tugged upward.

"I think we're supposed to go over there," said Chris, pointing to carriages waiting off to the side. James felt a bizarre desire to pet one of the skeletal horses, which went ignored by the other students.

Just as the small group began heading toward the carriages, a man yelled over the voices of the students, calling for the first years to join him.

"Or not," said Chris, grimacing and giving them a rueful smile.

In the dim light, James made out the features of Seamus Finnegan waiting for them. He only vaguely knew the man as another member of Dumbledore's Army. Seamus had taken over Hagrid's position as the professor for Care of Magical Creatures, and Hagrid was edging toward retirement, working only as the groundskeeper again.

"Bloody hell, there's a lot of you," Seamus remarked. "Alright, four to a boat, five if you can fit."

James climbed into a boat together with Ivy, Chris, and Sirius. Then, after a command from Seamus, the group of boats began to glide forward. Despite his upbringing, James couldn't help being awed by the piece of magic.

He turned to his companions. "I'm sorry if I came off as rude," he said, guilt blooming in his stomach. "My only friends growing up were my own cousins. I'm not used to being around people my own age."

There was a long pause as his words dropped into what had been a beautiful, serene silence.

"It's alright," Sirius said at last. "Ivy and I are the same way."

Ivy's mouth opened as if she was going to protest this assessment, but then she sighed and nodded.

"I've never had friends," said Chris, and then looked away, bashful, when they gaped at him.

"Well, that _has_ to change," James declared after a moment.

"Right," Sirius said, nodding. "Even if we're in different Houses –"

"We'll still be friends," Ivy finished.

A smile built up on Chris' office, and then he let out a genuine chuckle.

"You're all so weird," he said, shaking his head, and then protested loudly, "Oi, what're you doing?"

"Ruffling your hair," James said primly, retracting his hand. "My older brother does it all the time to me. It's a sign of companionship. It means, 'I like you, kid.'"

"Thanks… I think?"

Sirius laughed and even Ivy's lips rose into a smile. For the rest of the boat ride, they all chatted amicably and James was almost disappointed when the boat reached the harbor. His nerves had also returned, something of which he hadn't even been aware until now.

The large group of first-years followed Seamus up the passageway and to the castle. When he knocked on the massive oak door, it swung open to reveal a man with a round, kind face.

"Thank you, Seamus," said Neville. "Please, all of you come inside."

He stepped aside and the first-years filed past him into the Entrance Hall. They quietly followed him into a room beside the Great Hall, from which they could hear muffled voices. James' stomach began to knot at the idea of food. He just wanted everything to be done at this point.

Once the customary speech was delivered and Professor Longbottom left the anteroom, whispers broke out. James purposefully ignored them as he heard his own name floating around the room.

"Which one is he? I don't even know what he looks like!"

"Doesn't he have green eyes?"

"No, no, that's his little brother. You know, Albus _Severus_."

At those words, there were a few snickers and some dark mutterings. James felt a tightening of his skin. He knew that outside his own family, Snape was despised by nearly everyone, but it was still odd for him to hear such disparagement. Al was going to have a hard time when he left the sheltered bubble of their family.

Finally Professor Longbottom returned and called them into order. Then they trekked into the Great Hall and filed down the aisle in between two tables, which James identified as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff from his cousins' seating. He watched as Professor Longbottom set up a stool and raggedy old hat. From his father's stories, James had been expecting the Hat to burst into song about the four Houses, but instead Professor Longbottom opened a scroll.

"Adams, Evelyn!"

With bated breath, James watched as the first person sat under the Hat. It seemed to take forever before the slit on the brim opened to shout a single word.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Brimming with happiness, the girl hurried toward her new housemates, who had erupted in applause.

"Astell, Heather!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sean Atkinson was also sorted into Gryffindor, and after him came Felicity Avery, who was the first Slytherin. At the latter sorting, Ivy and Sirius leaned together and whispered. James caught the words 'bastard child' and figured they knew Felicity. He wished he knew more about the wizarding families, too, but so far he didn't recognize any of the names. All of his parents' friends had children at a later age.

"Black, Sirius!"

At once, the Hall exploded with whispers, and not even Hermione's stern eye from the staff table could calm them. People leaned forward to get a view of Sirius as he walked to the stool, his chin held high and his back straight. James' stomach twisted nervously as the Hat was settled on Sirius' dark hair. Even Professor Longbottom was eyeing Sirius, a marked wariness upon his face.

"SLYTHERIN!"

James let out a quiet, shuddering breath. Sirius strode to the Slythern table, seeming unaware of the lack of applause, and by the time James realized he should have clapped for his friend, Sirius had already sat down.

The rest of the Sorting passed by in a blur. He recognized a few names from Dumbledore's Army, but since he didn't know their children, he didn't really care about them. He did note, however, that Amelia Macmillan was sorted into Hufflepuff, shortly before Ivy was made a Slytherin.

Then, finally, James' own name was called. As he walked forward, he heard whispers rise around him again.

"Look, it's a Potter!"

The hat was lowered onto his head, and James' view of the hall was obscured.

"Oh, the idea's already there," a voice murmured into his ear.

James clutched at the edge of the stool as he thought of the possible collateral damage. He was meant to be in Gryffindor. It was expected of him. He was a _Potter_.

"It doesn't matter if you're a Potter," the Hat continued relentlessly. "Yes, it is your destiny to undermine the order… James Sirius, the Supplanter, the Scorcher, you will set a new precedent in… SLYTHERIN!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.**

James was used to feeling excluded. He was not used to being the center of attention.

The Hat's words were still ringing in his ears as Professor Longbottom lifted it from his head. For a moment, the entire Hall was silent. Many of the students looked stricken; others looked as if he had personally betrayed them. His gaze skipped over all of them until it landed on his brother. Teddy's hair was its normal mousy brown color as he gave James a small, sad smile.

From his expression, Teddy had anticipated this occurring, but he hadn't bothered to warn James of the possibility.

James took a minute breath. Then he flashed a purposefully cocky smile and, amidst the silence, strode to the Slytherin table. By the time he'd sat down beside Ivy, whispers had broken out again, but he ignored them.

You _are in control. Nobody else._

Andromeda claimed that was how the Blacks climbed their way to the top of the society. Even if it wasn't true, they acted as if everything was going the way they wanted. James would have to live by the same creed if he wanted to survive his time at Hogwarts.

"Powels, Richard!" Professor Longbottom called in an attempt to continue the Sorting.

After a moment, a boy stepped out of the crowd of first-years. The whispers began to subside, although people were still sneaking glances at James. He sat with his shoulders straight, only breaking his façade of indifference when Chris' name was called.

"Great, _another_ Weasley," someone muttered further down the table. "I bet he's –"

"SLYTHERIN!"

As Chris stood, he looked just as surprised as James had felt. He paused, facing the Ravenclaw table as if he were about to head toward it, and then abruptly turned toward the Slytherins, who stared back at him in silence. Almost robotically, he walked to the table and sat down.

"This is utter chaos," said a student, and nervous laughter floated through the room.

Even James felt hysteria building up inside him. _A Potter,_ he thought. _A Potter in Slytherin, and it's me._

He was not looking forward to telling his parents about this.

Finally, after Martin Yarrow was sorted into Gryffindor, the Headmistress called for their attention.

"Good evening!" Aunt Hermione – _Professor Granger_ , James reminded himself – called. "I know all of you are hungry, so I'll keep it short: Everything you need to know is in your guidebooks. That includes a map, so I don't want to hear any more excuses about getting lost. If you have a question, please ask an older student or your Head of House.

"With that, I will conclude: Welcome to Hogwarts, and let the feast begin!"

The crowd roared with approval as food appeared on the tables. However, James had no appetite for the gourmet buffet laid out before him. His stomach seemed to be turning in on itself.

While everyone was initially distracted by the food, Sirius rounded the table, grabbing Chris on his way. Older students at the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables were exchanging seats – James saw Roxanne join Fred and Dominique, despite her being a Gryffindor – so no one noticed Sirius and Chris sit across from James and Ivy.

"Well, this will be easier than expected," Sirius said.

James stared at him in mute horror.

"Being friends," Sirius added. "Now we won't have to worry about Houses."

Ivy looked over his shoulder at the rest of the room.

"I think we do," she said quietly.

Suddenly Chris yelped, though he quickly masked the sound with a hiss of pain. The pug-faced, dark-haired boy standing behind him slowly lowered his hand, which held a mug of hot chocolate.

"Oh sorry," he sneered. "I saw red and thought you were a Gryffindor."

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Ivy draw her wand. Sirius was already twisting around and rising to his feet, his face filled with a cold, hard anger. James was frozen, not knowing what to do. He couldn't afford to call attention to himself.

"Julian," a voice said sharply.

The boy's eyes flicked toward the two Prefects heading toward them.

"Stay out of this, Parkinson," he snapped. "We're barely related. You can't control me."

"I think our badges say differently," the girl returned. She waved her wand at Chris. "That'll help with the pain, but you'll need to see Madame Longbottom later on."

Chris nodded and rolled his shoulders, relief suffusing his features. "Thanks," he said.

The male Prefect ripped the mug out of Julian's hand. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" he hissed. "We're trying to turn this House around. We can't do that if people like _you_ perpetuate the idea of us being evil."

"Who cares?" retorted Julian.

"Everyone but you, it seems." The Prefect indicated the people watching them; all of the Slytherins' eyes were narrowed on Julian.

His lip still curled, Julian spun on his heel and marched back to his seat. A girl nearby asked a question in too low a tone for James to hear, but he saw Julian quickly shake his head.

"Civil war within the first hour," said the female Prefect. "We have our work cut out for us, Pierce."

"Don't I know it," her partner replied, his gaze turning to Chris. "I'm Pierce Parkinson, by the way. If he does something like that again, let me know."

"I will," Chris said, nodding jerkily. His face was still pale.

Once the Prefects had left, Sirius slowly sank back into his seat and Ivy released her wand. Silence permeated their group. James looked down at his empty plate, feeling a headache coming on. He'd done nothing. While Sirius and Ivy had been ready to defend Chris, James had only sat there like a coward.

 _Maybe it's a good thing I'm not in Gryffindor,_ he thought. A coward in the House of Bravery would only further besmirch the Potter name.

* * *

Sirius woke so suddenly that it took a moment for him to realize where he was. He was shivering in his bed within the Slytherin dormitories. He could not say what had caused his heart to pound so fast, nor why he found his gaze drawn to another bed in the room.

"Sirius?" Chris poked his head through his own curtains. He blinked in the warm light generated by a fire at the center of the room. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said when he felt his voice wouldn't shake. "It was just a bad dream. Sorry if I woke you."

"'S fine," Chris mumbled, and then retreated back into his bed, closing the curtains tightly.

Alone again, Sirius took a moment to think. His father had said that if he needed help, then Sirius could reach him through Phineas Nigellus' portrait. The problem was that, as far as Sirius was aware, the only portrait of the former Headmaster was locked away in an office. Unless the Headmistress gave him permission to use the portrait, he had no hope of reaching his father except through letters.

That meant he had to figure out a way to put his instincts into words.

 _Do you really think you can save him, little Knight?_

Sirius shook his head. He was a Black, as bright as the stars in the sky. He had no reason to fear the dark. Yet when he looked at James, he seemed to forget this fact, and something in him recoiled.

Carefully, Sirius climbed out of his own bed and began getting dressed. Then he padded out of the room and down the long hallway to the Common Room. He had just reached the secret doorway when a voice spoke from behind him.

"Stop right there, Black."

Heart in his throat, Sirius spun around, his wand aloft to protect himself. He didn't relax when he saw the two fifth-year Prefects, Pierce Parkinson and Avis Coens standing from two chairs facing the door. When they'd been escorted to the Slytherin dormitory, Julian had shoved James into a wall. The Prefects had been quick to separate them before an actual altercation could occur, but Sirius still refused to trust the pair.

"No one is allowed out tonight," Pierce continued, repeating his earlier speech. "All students are to be in their rooms until the morning. At seven, Avis and I will escort you to the Great Hall for breakfast."

Slowly Sirius lowered his wand.

"I just want to send a letter," he said.

"If it's urgent, then you can use my owl," Avis offered. "Otherwise it can wait until tomorrow, when we show you to the Owlery."

Since he didn't have any such letter on him, Sirius only stood there silently.

Avis sighed. "Look, it's dangerous out there," she said gently. "The other Houses are known to target Slytherins who are alone."

"I can defend myself," Sirius said, raising his chin defiantly.

"You're a first-year," Pierce pointed out.

"I'm a Black," Sirius shot back at him.

"Point," Pierce conceded. "But I'm still not allowing it."

Sirius crossed his arms. "Are the _other_ Houses being monitored?" he demanded, indicating the door with a tilt of his head.

"Yes," Avis answered immediately. "Lupin has all of the fifth-year Prefects stationed at the dormitory exits. _Nobody_ is allowed out tonight. Until we get this handled –" She gestured toward Sirius, but he understood it to mean him, James, and Chris, the three people who had caused such an upstart at the Sorting. "We're taking every precaution we can."

His arms started to loosen because, as much as he hated to admit it, Sirius understood their reasoning. Then, realizing what he was doing, he firmed his stance again.

"Go to bed, Black," said Pierce. "You're being worse than Julian."

Sirius felt his shoulders tense.

"Or we could have hot cocoa," Avis suggested, a devious smile pulling at her lips.

"What?" Sirius and Pierce chorused.

"And not pour it on each other," she added before calling, "Isa!"

Immediately a house-elf appeared in front of them, looking as though it had just been woken from sleep. Its large eyes were drooping and it was swaying in place.

"Yes, Mistress Avis?" croaked the house-elf.

"Isa, can you get us three mugs of hot cocoa, please? Then you can go back to sleep."

The house-elf bobbed its head instead of answering and then disappeared again. A moment later, three mugs were on the table nearby them. Avis picked one up and extended it toward Sirius. After a moment, Sirius accepted it and breathed in the sweet smell of chocolate.

"There's no cure to homesickness," said Avis, "but I've found that chocolate makes any situation better."

"I'm not homesick," Sirius protested.

"Do you miss your family?" She used the same tone one would have used to ask about the weather.

"No – Well, yes – But Ivy's here, so it doesn't matter –"

Over on the couch, Pierce snickered into his mug. If Sirius were a dog, he was sure his hackles would have been raised, but as it was, he only snapped his mouth shut.

There was a small smile playing about Avis' lips as she nudged him toward the other couch. She began asking him about his family, which he answered sparingly at first, but over time he opened up more. He learned about hers and Pierce's families, too; Pierce's stories about Julian reminded Sirius of his cousin Cory's father.

Slowly Sirius felt himself becoming drowsy again, and he was barely aware of Pierce taking the mug from him and then floating him back to his bed. He did swear revenge on the pair of Prefects, though.

* * *

When James was a child, his parents took him and his siblings into Diagon Alley to see a parade. As he sat upon his father's shoulders, with Lily in Ginny's arms and Al atop the railing in front of Harry, James watched in fascination as the people marched past.

"Why are there so many signs with your face, Daddy?" he asked.

Harry squeezed James' leg gently, a light warning not to speak too loudly. They were trying to blend into the crowd, which James found to be rather stupid without any disguises. He'd already seen a few people notice them.

"Because I'm the Savior," Harry replied.

At the time, James was too young to hear the bitterness within his father's voice.

"Like when we saved Snuffles?" James asked, referring to the dog they had recently rescued from a pound.

"Something like that," Harry muttered, so low that James barely heard him over the cheering.

Over time, James came to understand that his father's role in the war was more than rescuing animals. Since his parents never explicitly talked about it, James, Al, and Lily would pore over any articles they could find, and pieced together their father's life.

Now, as he stared up at the green canopy above him, James wondered how he was going to be half as brave as his father. Then the curtains were drawn apart by Sirius, and once James' eyes adjusted to the excess light, he could see Chris slowly getting dressed behind Sirius.

"If you don't hurry up, we're going to be late for the first day of school," Sirius informed him.

James leaped out of bed and rushed through his morning routine before joining the crowd of first-years in the Common Room. They followed the Prefects to the Great Hall for breakfast, where James felt every eye turn toward him as he entered. He avoided eye contact with his cousins on his way to the Slytherin table.

Sitting down next to him, Chris smiled wanly. Struck with a thought, James leaned over to him.

"What did the Hat say to you?"

In the midst of helping himself to a portion of eggs, Chris startled and glanced around the table nervously. "Are we allowed to talk about that?"

James shrugged. "I think so. Uncle Neville – I mean, Professor Longbottom didn't say we couldn't."

Chris blew out his breath and set his fork down. With another furtive look, he muttered, "Not much, honestly. Just that I had both determination and bravery, and if I was willing to use them. And I said yes, and now I'm…here."

James could understand the disappointment in that one word. He had never imagined that this would be his own future, either. The Weasley family had done their best to cast off the stereotype they had been labeled with due to the war, but until James and Chris, though the latter was an extended relation, none of them had ever been in Slytherin.

"What are you two whispering about?" asked Sirius from across the table.

"Your luscious hair," James deadpanned on reflex.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "It is rather magnificent, isn't it?" he said with a smirk.

"Oh, shut up," said Ivy.

Sirius turned his smirk to her, but his response was cut off by the Head of Slytherin House, Belinda Jordan, who came by their table to pass out their class schedules.

"Make sure you do well in your classes, Lorraine," she said sternly to a dark-skinned girl, who ducked her head and mumbled a response.

Before breakfast ended, the morning post swooped into the hall. James watched with dread as a familiar owl landed in front of him. His hands shook slightly as he removed the letter from its leg. As he opened the parchment, he recognized his father's handwriting. A sour taste filled his mouth. He still hadn't sent a note to his parents about his sorting.

 _Dear James,_

 _Congratulations on making it into Gryffindor! I know you'll fit right in. These have the potential to be the best years of your life, and I hope you enjoy them. Let us know if you need anything from home._

 _Love,_

 _Dad (and Mum)_

James stared down at the letter, his mind racing to understand why Harry thought James was in Gryffindor. The answer came much sooner than expected when Chris, who was reading the _Daily Prophet_ , let out a, "Huh."

Then, without prompting, he laid the newspaper down so the others could read it, too. James' eyes widened in surprise at seeing his own face on the front page. The picture was a year old, and had been taken at the Quidditch World Cup.

Once he'd gotten over that shock, James looked curiously at the headline, and began to choke on his bite of eggs.

JAMES POTTER, ELDEST SON OF HARRY POTTER, SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR

 _Readers will not be surprised to learn that James Sirius Potter, named for the notorious mass murderer Sirius Black, has been sorted into the House of the Brave just like his father before him…_

"Somebody didn't fact check," Sirius observed.

Ivy furrowed her brows. "When was this written?"

"Might have been beforehand," James muttered, looking for the author and unsurprised when he found that it was Rita Skeeter. "It even says that Teddy was disappointed, but I haven't even spoken to him yet."

"Because I was letting you adjust," said a voice from behind them with an added, "per advice from Vic."

All four of them jumped and twisted around to see a lanky young man with bright blue hair standing there. Teddy nudged Sirius aside so there was room for him to sit, and then gave Ivy, Sirius, and Chris a beaming smile.

"Hello," he said. "I'm James' brother, Teddy Lupin."

After greeting him, both Ivy and Chris glanced between James and Teddy, obviously noting that they looked nothing alike. James knew that it was at this point that most people concluded that the two were half-brothers, based off their different last names, and he hastily nipped that thought in the bud.

"He's actually my god-brother," said James, "but I've grown up with him and he even has his own room at our house."

"Not anymore," said Teddy mournfully, deliberately turning his hair to a duller shade to Chris' amazement. "You took my old room."

James rolled his eyes. "Al and I couldn't share a room forever. And besides, you only visited for the holidays once you went to school."

Teddy continued to pout. "We'll see how _you_ feel when you go home at Christmas," he muttered. "I bet Lily has already taken over your room."

James went to refute him, but then had to concede it had a strong likelihood of happening.

Sirius pulled the paper out of James' hands and skimmed the rest of the article. "This is ridiculous," he muttered.

Instead of answering, James looked around the rest of the room. In only a day, it felt like an ocean had developed between him and everyone else. He forced down his emotions as he caught people staring at him and whispering over the newspaper.

"How about we go to class early?" suggested Teddy.

James began to stand before the sentence was even completed and both Chris and Sirius were quick to follow him.

"I'm going to stay here," Ivy said, waving them away when James looked at her.

Teddy escorted them out of the hall. James was grateful to have Sirius and Chris on either side him so it was harder to notice the furtive glances being shot in his direction. Turning to face them, Teddy began to walk backward toward the large oak doors leading outside. His first class was Care of Magical Creatures, which was in the same direction as the green houses.

"Don't worry about it, Jay," Teddy said earnestly. "Once this is fixed, I'm sure Mum and Dad will understand. Gran was in Slytherin, remember?"

James narrowed his eyes. "You had a hand in that article, didn't you?"

His back hitting the doors, Teddy gave one of them a hard shove to open it. "Who, me? My dear brother, how could you _ever_ accuse me of…"

From the other side of the door came a squawk that sounded like a chicken and Teddy stopped pushing.

"I'm so sorry!" He reached down to help the girl off the ground. "I didn't think someone would be out here."

She blushed and wiped at her robes. When she looked up, James saw the patch on the front of her robes marked her as a Gryffindor.

"It's okay," she mumbled, ducking her head again when hers and James' eyes met. "I just like to eat outside sometimes. I shouldn't have been leaning against the door."

Teddy smiled gently at her. "Accidents happen to the best of us. Are you a first-year?"

"Yeah, I'm Phoenix Strange," she said quietly, tensing as James startled at her name.

"Great!" Teddy said. "I'm Teddy, and these are my friends, James, Sirius, and Chris. They're in the same year as you."

Her eyes flitted toward their Slytherin badges and she paled.

"I have to get to class," Teddy continued obliviously. "I'll see you lot later, yeah?"

"Yeah," James answered dully, his stomach twisting again.

Teddy gave them a cheerful wave and jogged down the slope toward the Forbidden Forest, where the N.E.W.T. level class took place. Phoenix waited until he was out of hearing range before looking at them again.

"Listen, um…" She edged toward the door. "I know Mrs. Weasley… but I don't… So bye."

Her face now bright red, she ducked inside and quickly closed the door. Once her footsteps faded away, Chris turned to James and Sirius, his brows raised. "That was odd," he noted.

"Welcome to my life," James sighed, his shoulders slumping as he trudged toward the greenhouses. For the first time that he could recall, he was not looking forward to seeing Neville.


End file.
